


I’ve Had Worse

by pikablob



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikablob/pseuds/pikablob
Summary: While trapped in bed due to his injuries from the Woodscouts, Max is forced to confront some of his buried weaknesses in the form of a worried David.(Dadvid AU based on the ending of S1E3 Scout’s Dishonor. Rated T for mentions of Child Abuse.)





	I’ve Had Worse

The first things Max was aware of were a throbbing headache and a painfully dry throat. As his vision cleared he could make out the roof above him, the worn wood patched up in several places. The realisation dawned that he was in a cabin, which could only mean he was back at Camp Campbell. He never thought that notion would be relieving, but at that moment it was.

He tried to sit up, only for his vision to swim and his head to throb. A sharp pain stabbed into his back, and numerous other aches flared painfully in his limbs. He collapsed uselessly, rolling onto his side. He groaned, frustrated at his incapacitation.

By now he was aware that he was in the counsellors’ cabin. He was alone, resting on a temporary bed under a cheap blanket in camp colours. A dresser had been dragged beside the bed; on top of it someone had left a large glass of water and a half-used roll of yellowed bandages. The ancient camp first-aid kit they’d been plundered from lay open on the floor, the dust around the handle brushed off with recent use.

He reached out an arm, ignoring the pain, and snatched up the glass. He downed the entire thing in one go, the pain in his throat subsiding, and dropped it back onto the dresser with a thud. No doubt by now his parents had been called, he thought dryly. That was going to be a fucking nightmare: dealing with them whilst already injured.

There was a creak and the cabin door swung open. He rolled over to face away, not wanting to deal with whoever wanted to see him. He didn’t need their help; a couple of hours and he’d be back on his feet like usual.

“Max?” a familiar voice asked cautiously. Shit: it was David. Max’s headache was bad enough as it was; the last thing he needed was that fucking counsellor’s upbeat voice making it worse.

“Fuck off,” he tried to spit, but it came out more as an irritated mumble.

“You’re awake!” David hurried over, kneeling down beside the bed. “Gwen told me what happened when she brought you in.” So that was how Max had ended up back here. He scowled, bitter that he hadn’t been able to escape on his own. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he snarled, curling into himself, “Just fucking fine. I’ve had worse.” It wasn’t a lie. He heard David make a sound that might’ve been a strangled gasp.

“You were stabbed,” the counsellor said bluntly, his voice tinged with worry. “Gwen said she found you hung upside-down over a fire. We don’t know how much blood you’ve lost, or if there’s any problems from smoke inhalation or being like that for so long, and that’s before we even get to your other injuries. We should probably get you to a hospital-”

“No!” Max said abruptly, louder than he’d intended. David flinched. “You bandaged it, didn’t you? And I’m awake. Just gimme a couple of hours to rest and I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, no hospitals,” David replied slowly, taken by surprise by Max’s response. He shrugged, standing up again. “Get some rest, okay? You’ll need more than a couple of hours; you can stay here for tonight at least. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Max didn’t look up. He curled up tighter, listening to David’s uncertain steps away and the quiet shutting of the door.

======

David closed the door quietly and stepped outside, worry pooling in his stomach as he walked towards the mess hall. Max had said this wasn’t the worst he’d been injured, and while nothing Max said was necessarily true the counsellor had an uncomfortable feeling this wasn’t a lie.

Something didn’t add up. For the past two weeks Max had done nothing but cause trouble and try and escape, no matter how much David had tried to get him to see the joys of camping. Having him abruptly turn down a chance to get out of it by taking a hospital trip, even just for a few days, was uncharacteristic.

David didn’t have much more time to think; he reached the mess hall after only a couple of minutes of ruminating. Dinner was already in full swing: he’d missed the start of it to go and check on Max’s condition. Taking a deep breath to calm his agitated thoughts, he stepped into the building.

A ball of what might have been mashed potato whizzed past his head, splattering against the door frame. He looked around, seeing Nikki and Nurf engaged in long-range food warfare across the room from their respective tables. Business as usual then, he supposed, heading over to the counsellors’ table.

Gwen was already waiting, snapping out of her disinterested expression to look up at him expectantly.

“How‘s Max?” she asked quickly, her voice concerned. He sat down opposite her.

“He’s upset mostly,” David explained, “Well, angry really. He looked like he was in a bit of pain, but he didn’t want anything. He was really against going to hospital, and he said he’d had worse before.”

“He’s just trying to be a hardass,” Gwen shrugged, more relieved than she wanted to let on. “He’s probably embarrassed that we had to bail him out.” David didn’t look convinced. She sighed, picking up a brown folder that was resting beside her tray. She passed it to him.

“I was going to call up his parents,” she explained. “Y’know the protocol. We’re supposed to call if any of the little shits get injured. But, well, take a look.”

He flipped open the folder, and did a double take. The paper inside consisted of the parental consent form all parents were expected to fill out, with the name ‘Max’ in the first box and the age box filled with the number ten. That was it; there were no other boxes filled. He didn’t even have a surname recorded for Max, let alone any contact details.

“This can’t be right,” he said quietly, trying not to alarm the kids at the other tables. “How did this even get accepted?” The realisation hit him that this was Max’s third year at camp, and that all this time if something had gone wrong he’d have had no way of telling the boy’s family. His stomach tightened with concern. How could they leave so much blank? It was like they didn’t even care what happened to their son, as long as he was away from them.

“‘Cause Campbell doesn’t give a shit,” Gwen shrugged, projecting indifference. He noticed her fists clench, betraying her feelings on the matter.

David looked away, finally starting at his meal. He had an idea what might be going on with Max, but it wasn’t good. He could only hope the boy would be alright.

======

It was dark in the cabin when David awoke later that night. He blinked, tapping the top of the aging alarm clock on his dresser: the red display read 11:34. He sighed and rolled over, hoping he would get back to sleep soon. He would need his energy to lead another day of camp, even if Max was likely to be bedridden for most of the morning at least.

The rest of the room came into view as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could make out Gwen’s bed against the far wall, with her sprawled on top of the covers. One arm fell from the bed limply to dangle above the floorboards.

Between him and her was the temporary bed Max was sleeping in. The covers were piled oddly into a heap at one end, while the other end looked bare. Silently David slipped out of bed, concerned that Max had moved during the night.

He approached the lump of blankets at the end of the bed, moving as quietly as possible. As he began to make it out properly he stopped dead, heart leaping into his throat. The pile was just that; a pile of blankets not large enough to sleep under. Max wasn’t in bed.

David scanned the room quickly; there was no sign of the boy. The only place Max could have gone was outside. But why? And how? He was still recovering from a stab wound and half a dozen other minor injuries; he hadn’t even had the strength to sit up without pain that afternoon. Now he was out and about?

David darted to the door and slipped on his shoes. He stepped out into the cool night air, glancing back to make sure he hadn’t disturbed Gwen. When she didn’t stir he shut the door quietly and set off.

The moon was bright enough to navigate by, and either way he knew the campground like the back of his hand. The question now was which way Max had gone: the campers’ tents were right there, only a few metres’ walk from the door, so Max could have easily reached his, but there was also the path back to the mess hall to consider.

Then again, Max really had nothing to gain by heading back to the mess hall. He didn’t have much to gain by getting up at all in his state, but that was another matter. So David chose to approach Max and Neil’s tent, pushing open the flap as quietly as he could.

Inside, he could make out Neil dozing peacefully on his bed. The other bed was clearly also occupied: Max was curled up with his back to the entrance, half-covered by the cheap duvet. For a moment David wasn’t sure if the boy was awake, and wondered if waking him would do more harm than good. His silent questions were answered when Max let out a groan of pain and rolled over.

He didn’t immediately notice David, instead keeping his gaze fixed on the opposite tent wall. It was clear he was in pain, probably from dragging himself over here. In his hands he was gripping tightly to a ragged stuffed bear, holding it close to his stomach. David stifled a gasp: was that why Max had come here: to get a stuffed animal?

“Max?” he asked softly. Max jolted, rocketing into a sitting position. He winced; no doubt the sudden movement had aggravated some of his injuries.

“Holy shit!” he hissed, his voice as loud as he dared. “David?! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I was worried about you,” David explained, taking a step towards the bed. “You weren’t in the cabin, and I didn’t know where you’d gone or why. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Max seemed to realise that his bear was in full view, because he rapidly stuffed it under the covers and looked away from David’s gaze.

“I’m fine, okay!” he spat through clenched teeth. “I just- Just leave me alone. I don’t need your stupid help.” He lay back down, rolling over as fast as he could and cringing when his injuries protested.

“You’re not fine, Max,” David said firmly, crouching down beside the bed. “You’re hurt; you don’t have to hide that. If you needed something from in here you could have just asked me or Gwen to go and-”

“Just stop!” Max choked out suddenly. David could hear the lump in his throat.

“Stop what?” he asked softly, extending a comforting hand. Max pulled away violently.

“Pretending to care,” he replied, audibly close to tears. “All this ‘I was so worried’ crap, just cut it out. I know nobody cares about me, okay? You don’t need to keep faking it.” He sniffled loudly. David just sat there for a moment, too stunned to speak. When he finally did he chose his words carefully.

“I care,” he said finally, “Honestly. And I know I’m not the only one. Gwen doesn’t always show it, but she cares about you too. And there’s your friends.”

“They left me behind,” Max rebutted, suppressing a sob.

“No they didn’t,” David said firmly. “Who do you think went back and found you with the Woodscouts? Nikki and Neil wouldn’t let Gwen go alone, despite both of us objecting. And you’ve only been friends for a week or so; that sounds like care to me.”

Max was silent for a moment, trying to process what he had just heard. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, keeping his gaze fixed on the tent wall beside his bed.

“Why?” he asked suddenly. “All I’ve done at camp for the past three years is make your life hell. I can’t do anything else; it always fucking backfires. How do you think I ended up stuck upside-down like that? I couldn’t complete the most basic fucking ropes course at the Woodscouts’ camp.”

“You had an untreated stab wound,” David protested, “And several other injuries. And that course was not basic. Gwen found you passed out three stories above a bonfire. Anybody would struggle with that. And besides; you shouldn’t have to earn that kind of care.” Max couldn’t suppress another sob. David continued.

“I don’t know what your parents have made you think, but it’s wrong,” he affirmed, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You can be… frustrating sometimes, I’ll admit. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be ignored or neglected.” There was another moment of silence.

“They never cared,” Max admitted quietly, rubbing his eyes. “The only time they even act like I exist is when I fuck something up, and then…”

He trailed off, not needing to finish.

“Is that what you meant when you said you’d had worse than this?” David asked uncertainly. Max nodded silently.

“Oh Max,” David sighed, reaching out to gently pull the boy into a hug. Too worn out or too upset to resist, Max let it happen, and after a moment stopped fighting the tears trying to flow. A few droplets of water ran down his face, falling onto the bare ground below.

“You don’t have to go back to them,” David continued, “Not if all they’re going to do is hurt you.”

“Where else is there?” Max asked. “Camp doesn’t last forever.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t stay with me afterwards,” David countered. “I’ve been registered as a foster parent for a while now; we could easily make the case. It would be like camp every day!”

“Fucking kill me now,” Max muttered sarcastically, despite the ghost of a smile on his face. “But… thanks, seriously.” David beamed.

“Don’t mention it.”


End file.
